The Queen of Albion
by Irnysian
Summary: When the Queen of Albion gets rid of her husband, she enlists help to clean up the mess, and makes a deal with a devil. A very attractive, clever devil. Hero of Brightwall/Reaver one-shot..


The Queen's children were asleep in their beds, in the little room joined to her chambers, and the infant was sleeping in the other little room, in her own little cradle, while the Queen slipped into rather plain clothing (plain only when compared to her normal outfits) and slipped her feet into the soft leather boots near her bed. She was dressed as a man, with a small cloak on over her thin shoulders, in a sorry attempt to cover more of herself, so perhaps her subjects, if they were out this late, would not recognize their sovereign.

She snuck out of the castle, past busy servants and guards on their watch, and ran out onto the streets of Bowerstone, somehow avoiding the drunken citizens of her capital city, and faking drunkenness as she passed even more guards at the gate, on her slow, steady way to Millfield.

It took her much longer than she had intended it to, but within an hour and a half, she was at the doors of the mansion in Millfield. The locked doors of the mansion. And, in front of the (locked) doors of the Millfield Mansion stood a small woman holding a small envelope. She bowed to the Queen, handed her the envelope, and hurried off, no doubt fearing the wrath of her master should she be late.

When she was safely in her study again, another hour and a half later, with a lone candle burning next to her, she opened the envelope and read the neatly scrawled words:

'_My Glorious (sexy) Queen,_

_It's been a few months since we last saw each other, when I helped you clean up the mess with your dear late husband, and I know we had all sorts of plans for tonight (you little minx) but it seems something urgent has come up, and I'm forced to reschedule. I do apologize, precious, for any inconvenience this may have caused you._

_I'll notify you if my plans change soon. Don't wait up for me._

_Reaver'_

She sighed as she folded the letter again, and sighed when she realized that she would have to search the papers on her desk for the key to the drawer. Once found, she unlocked the little drawer and set the letter into it, among numerous other letters and sketches and things that could cause any average person to shudder.

Locking the drawer again, she shuffled back to her room, threw her clothes off in a tired fit, forgoing pajamas, and climbed into her bed with the shirt still on. The next morning, she would be woken up by her older children climbing into her bed to cuddle with her, and woken up again an hour later by the cries of the baby, at which time the children rushed out of the room, laughing and yelling (still in pajamas), apparently on their way to terrorize the staff as she tended to her youngest, moodiest child.

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_Five months ago, months after the birth of her youngest child, she had searched her husband's desk, under the guise of trying to find an important paper she had shown him, and found a series of letters, all from different people (male and female) detailing their love for him and expressing their joy at his nearing visit. Every so often, there would be another letter or two from this or that lover, either professing their love or whining about how much they missed him, and one even mentioned his having an illegitimate child (she wrote this particular tidbit down, along with the mention of what town they were in; silly woman)._

_The one that caught her eye, however, was the one from an incredibly detailed lover (apparently, they had OCD…or something), who had written the date, and the place they would meet, when they would meet, and everything the Queen needed to go after them._

_She left the castle before she transported to the Sanctuary, where a particular butler was reading in the chair she had brought for him. He looked up as she stomped her way to the Armory, not even bothering to ask (no doubt worried about her answer), and when she stomped back out, with a very long sword strapped to her back, he continued to not ask anything. Soon, she was pointing to a spot on the map and disappearing, and Jasper went right back to reading, feeling sorry for whoever it was that had made his Queen angry._

_She found herself standing outside of a rickety cabin in Driftwood, listening to the sounds of hushed laughter and flirting. She crept her way to the door, threw it open with one turn of the handle, and stepped in on the shocked lovers. Her husband recognized at once the expression on her face (he had seen it before, when he met her, and she was fighting a group of mercenaries), and attempted to get up from his place on the woman's bed. The Queen's sword was out of its sheath and pointed at his face in a matter of moments, leaving him frightened and flat on his back._

"_I met you, and loved you, and married you. I made you royalty, and gave you three children. You were nothing when we were married, and you repay me by having multiple lovers? You can't stay faithful to your wife, your Queen?"_

_He opened his mouth to explain himself, to turn himself into the victim, but she refused to listen. The young woman cowered on the corner of the bed, pressed against the wall, tears rolling down her face, as if she knew nothing until now._

_Neither lover lived. She made sure of that. But, when the job was done, she was left covered in blood, and the small cabin was a mess. She wondered how she would get away with it without someone noticing. If a man hadn't walked in and come to her rescue, she was sure her subjects would overthrow her._

"_What a wonderful mess you've gotten yourself into, Your Majesty. What did the poor bastards ever do to you?"_

"_Reaver."_

"_The one and only. And you know, Your Majesty, I can fix this. Make all of it…go away."_

_The Queen looked at him in disbelief; how could he have gotten here, how could he have known she would be here? Was he following her? Certainly not, he had been gone for months, not since the baby had just been born, and before that, she hadn't seen him since months prior to the baby being due. He always came at the oddest times._

"_Really? Well then, Reaver; work your magic. Make it all go away, and I'll reward you. Money, jewels, more ships…name it, and I'll give it to you."_

"_Anything? Oh, Majesty, you shouldn't have…"_

"_Pardon?"_

"_I want your body. All of it. In my bed."_

_The Queen blinked, but agreed to his terms nonetheless. She needed it cleaned, and Reaver was the only man she knew who could get it done._

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Yesterday, she had said goodbye to her children, kissed them on the head, and passed the baby to the nanny, then mounted her horse and rode off. Everyone cheered and yelled after her as she galloped through the streets (a few even threw blunt objects at her), and she had barely time to wave back at them before she was out the city gates and racing toward a place she had never seen, only heard whispers of.

She had caught wind of an uprising in the hidden port town of Bloodstone. She had thought her mother had destroyed it as Queen, but it turned out that, according to the journal her mother had kept, she had only hidden it with the help of some of the most talented Will users from across the land. And now, a very untalented pirate had tipped her off after running in fear of his comrades. So, she had decided to ride off on her own, meet up with a small group of five men, and attack the pirates before they could hatch their plan.

When she got to Bloodstone, however, disguised as a pirate herself, she found it to be quite loud and raunchy, with drunkards stumbling around everywhere. Rather confused, she wandered into a pub and began working her charm on a particularly drunk pirate.

"So, a passerby told me of the plan. But, I thought it was soon; I had come to join you all."

"Aye, but," _hick_, "we couldn't get enough men to start a pirate army big enough. That, and we realized that the Queen isn't so bad."

"Oh. I see."

"Yeah…course, you could always go talk to that man o'er there. He still wants to overthrow her; says she's 'too tall' or som'in."

She set a gold coin in front of him, which he eagerly took to the bar to order another drink, and she made her way over to the elaborately dressed man, who was talking to a short, frightened woman, much like the one she had seen a few nights prior. Except, this woman was old, and had shaking hands.

"I 'ear your the man to talk to. Is 'at true?"

"Depends. What do you want t' know?"

"This overt'rowing business. I wan' in."

The man motioned for her to follow him, and he and his goons walked out the door. The Queen tipped her hat at the small old woman, who smiled up at her, and then followed after the men, her fingers flexing as she readied herself for the slaughter. Their slaughter.

Once they were in a secluded area, with plenty of room to move, she drew her sword, the same one she had used to kill her husband, and threw off her hat, her dark hair tumbling down her back in waves. They knew at once who it was, and the men drew their weapons and came at her.

She spun out of the way of their attacks, dodging every slice of the blade, every stab of the sword, and rolled away as one got close enough to punch her. With the turn of her wrist, she had her sword slicing through the soft flesh of a throat, sending one of the men to his knees, dying. Another was dispatched quickly with a few swings, deep cuts covering his torso as he, too, fell to the ground in a bloody mess.

She continued to spin and swing and stab and throw and cut, and all number of injuries were inflicted on the conspirators. But the one she just couldn't keep down was the leader, the man in the fancy dress. And right when she was about to pull out her gun and give away the fact that there was a fight, a shot rang from somewhere that sounded very close, and she froze.

For a moment, she sat and counted all her body parts. All were accounted for, and none were in pain…then she saw the hole through the man's head, and turned to see that familiar face standing behind her.

"You always seem to come in when help is needed most."

"No thank you?"

"Thank you, Reaver."

He bowed and smirked at her in the way he did, sliding his gun back into its holster as he went.

"You're too welcome, Your Majesty. And you know, fighting like that…your mother would be proud."

She shook her head and sheathed her weapon, then outstretched her hand for him to take.

"There are only a few things my mother would be proud of; my children are one of them. My fighting, however, I think my fighting would not be one of them."

"You never saw your mother fight. I'll tell you, it was a sight. And, she was never taught by anyone, as you were."

By now, she was following him as he led her through the streets of Bloodstone, and at the realization that her mother's memory was being treated so beautifully by Reaver, she almost stopped in her tracks.

"You knew my mother?"

"Of course. I helped her defeat Lucien all those years ago. Before she was ever Queen of Albion. I was there when she was crowned, hiding in the crowd. And, I received letters from your mother - we all did - following your brother's birth and your own."

"You _all_?"

"Yes. Garth, Hammer, and I. We helped your mother, and she missed us, somehow found where we were, and contacted us. It was rather sweet, actually, if not a bit creepy. Of course, I can't blame her; everyone misses Reaver."

"So, you knew us all?"

Reaver sighed, and she could almost hear him rolling his eyes, but continued walking. Come to think of it, she had no clue where they were going…

"Yes, Hannah. I knew you all. Jeez, for a Queen, you're rather slow on the uptake."

She dug her nails into his hand for that.

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When she woke up, she was sore all over, and parts of her that hadn't been used in a while hurt. It was a bit annoying, and perhaps intriguing, and she just laid there for a while, in a dusty bed. Why was it dusty, she had asked. It hadn't been used in ages, he replied. I hate dust, she said. Get over it, was his response.

Oh, she got over it. She got over a great many things that night. She was surprised at herself, really.

"I must admit, I've seen you fight, and it's quite a sight, but…I never thought you could move like that."

Good God…this would be an interesting partnership.

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Author's Note: I said I was going to do a one shot. And I said it might not go well. And here it is. I can't improve it, I tried. I was half tempted to scrap it and not let anyone see it, ever. But, Reaver is a hard character to work with, and I'm too mean to myself. So, who knows, maybe this isn't so bad. Good news, it's short, and ends on an odd note. And odd, awkward, oh-my-what-could-possibly-happen-next note.

Yay.

Enjoy! Bonsoir! (because it's night time right now, as I right this, no this, NO THIS! Yes, this.)


End file.
